


whatever I lack, you make up

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Desperation Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't Like Don't Read, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Omorashi, Sub Louis, Watersports, Wetting, i guess, what did I do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9946463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: And suddenly, Louis’ chest is pressed up against the wall, arms kept in a tight grip behind his back.“You’ve been a fucking brat all day,” Harry hisses, keeping Louis pinned. “Sometimes I just don’t know what to do with you.”~Louis hasn't been good. Harry teaches him how again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i apologize for this kinky monstrosity. lmao.... anyways, don't like, don't read. enjoy, I guess?
> 
> title is from for him. by Troye Sivan
> 
> disclaimer: i don't own one direction (yet)
> 
> **please don't post anywhere else

Louis huffs into the house, kicking his shoes off and slamming the door. He closes his eyes.

_Wait for it...3...2--_

The door bangs open.

There it is.

“For fuck’s sake, I’ve told you not to slam the goddamn door!”

“Shut up!”

Harry’s jaw sets, eyes darkening.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, shut the fuck up. I don’t want to talk to you.”

And suddenly, Louis’ chest is pressed up against the wall, arms kept in a tight grip behind his back.

“You’ve been a fucking brat all day,” Harry hisses, keeping Louis pinned. “Sometimes I just don’t know _what_ to do with you.”

Louis growls, struggling to free himself. “M’not.”

“Not what?” Harry mocks.

“I’m not a brat,” Louis says, trying to push his hips out and get more leverage. Harry presses a knee against the back of Louis’ thighs.

Harry laughs out loud, and it’s a cruel sound. “Darling, where have you been? Or did you miss the part where you made two people cry and I literally had to pull you, kicking and screaming, off of Liam?”

Louis squirms, and Harry adjusts his hold on Louis’ wrists.

“You’ve got to learn to control your emotions and not just act like a dick when something’s bothering you.”

Harry’s voice softens a little.

“What’s your word, little one?”

Louis shudders underneath him.  
“Pineapple.”

“And you’ll use it if you need to?”

“Yeah.”

Harry lets out a breath. “Okay.” He leads Louis over to the couch, hands him a water bottle while giving him a pointed stare, and turns on the telly. Louis stands straight, obedient but sullen, waiting for instructions.

Harry motions for Louis to sit down, and he does, gingerly, on the edge of the sofa.

Harry sprawls next to him and tucks his hand into Louis’.

Louis waits for about ten minutes, shakily sipping his water; and it seems like all they’re doing is watching a movie. He relaxes a little, confused. No spanking? Edging? Chastity? Is Louis even getting punished?

He gets his answer when he tries to move into a more comfortable position.

Harry sleepily lifts his head from where it was resting in Louis’ lap.  
“Lou, stop fidgeting. Do you need anything?”

“Uh, not really no,”

Harry raises an eyebrow and Louis squirms.

“I, uh, guess I could go for a wee.”

Harry blinks at him. “That’s right, you could. Are you?”

Damn it, Louis hates these questions.

“Um, yes?”

Harry grins. “Guess again.”

Louis grumbles. “No.’  
“Right answer!” Harry crows happily, bouncing up from the couch. “C’mon, boo, I’m going to make us cheese toasties.”

Louis groans, standing and following Harry into the kitchen. Being upright puts more pressure on his (admittedly full) bladder, and he walks with a slight limp.

He watches Harry putter around the kitchen, making dinner. He’s not quite sure what he’s supposed to be doing; he’s not been given any instructions.

Louis turns towards the door, shifting restlessly, because fuck does his bladder actually feel uncomfortably full. He’s about to leave, maybe sneak to the loo if he has the nerve, when something catches him by the belt loops and pulls him back.

 _Something_ being Harry.

“Fuck!” Louis hisses, the waistband of his jeans being pressed into his tummy.

“Where do you think you’re going?

Louis shivers, hands going down to pull at the hem of his t-shirt.

“I said, where do you think you’re going?”

“N-nowhere.”

Harry ‘hmph-ed’ and let him go, but not before he laid a hand on Louis’ lower belly and pushed. _Hard._

Louis shrieks, twisting out of Harry’s grip and shoving his hands into his crotch. He _seriously_ had to pee now, it was getting ridiculous. The whole thing or whatever was ridiculous. Forcing Louis to hold his water? Kinky bastard.

He glanced over at Harry, who had turned around and was now preoccupied with the stove. Louis inched towards the doorway, slipping into the hall. He skidded on the floor, was halfway down the hall--

A hand grabbed his arm, halting his movements.

“Christ, do I have to keep you on a bloody leash?”  
Louis flushes. “No.”

Harry tuts. “I think I might have to,” he sing-songs, and drags Louis over to a kitchen drawer, pulling out a rather long rope.

Louis whines as Harry secures it around his neck, but gets shushed. The rope fits loosely, and is tied in a way that makes sure he doesn’t accidentally strangle himself.

However, Harry gives a harsh tug to the end of the leash, and Louis winces.

“C’mon,” Harry says, and he leads Louis into the dining room where two cheese toasties sit on plates, along with two tall glasses of milk.

Louis gulps.

“Eat up, Lovely,” Harry tells him, and sits across from Louis, immediately finding his feet underneath the table, like a weird one-sided game of footsie.

“Thank you,” Louis says, and tries to subtly rock his crotch against the wooden chair, which provides a bit of relief for his bursting bladder and aching cock.

He’s squirming pretty much nonstop by the time Harry finishes his dinner. Louis’ only taken a couple bites of his own sandwich, leaving the milk untouched.

“Not hungry?”

Harry rubs a hand over Louis’ shoulders, having come to stand beside him.

“Not really, I’m sorry.”

“That’s quite alright, darling. Finish your milk though, will you?”

Louis knows it isn’t a request.

“Harry, please no, I--”

Harry runs his hand through Louis’ hair. “What was that? No?”

Louis grumbles and rolls his eyes, but picks up the milk. Harry holds his hand, greedily watching every gulp.

Louis stops halfway through the glass, taking a breath and shakily feeling his own rock hard bladder, whimpering. He drifts lower and presses the heel of his hand to his cock.

Harry squeezes his hand gently.  
_Baby, it’s okay to use your word._

Louis squeezes back.  
 _I know._

He finishes the rest of the glass in two swallows.

~

Harry leads Louis back into the living room and lays him on the couch horizontally.

“Let’s finish watching this,” he says, and flicks on the TV, Then, “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom, Have to wee, don’t I?”  
Harry’s lips press together into a tight, smug smile.

Louis glares. “Fuck you.” He squeezes his crotch.

Harry just grins again and leaves.

Louis lets out a breath and pulls his legs up until he’s in a fetal position, squirming. He tries to focus on the movie, but honestly he has to go _so badly_ , it’s hard to concentrate on anything else but his pulsating bladder.

Jesus _fuck._

When Harry comes back, he immediately heads to Louis and pulls Louis’ hands out of his crotch, spreading his legs and lying in between them.

Louis whines, tries to get Harry’s weight off his belly.

It doesn’t work.

“Keep still,” Harry whispers, pinching Louis’ side, and mouths at this neck.

Louis groans, half because of his fullness and half because of the feeling of Harry nibbling at his jaw. He squirms a little.

“Keep _still_.”

Harry’s lips find Louis’, licking into his mouth. The kiss is rough and wet, with too much tongue. Harry bites Louis’ lip, and he arches into it.

Harry abruptly stops. “Get up.”

Louis stares at him, dazed and still a little bit fuzzy.

“Do I have to tell you again?”

Louis scrambles off the couch, quickly standing in front of Harry, legs crossed.

Harry stands and walks behind Louis, bringing his arms behind his back.

“Should have listened,” Harry muttered, and he loops the remaining leash around Louis’ wrists, leaving them tied and yanking his head back a bit.

Louis whimpers.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Harry says, coming back around to face him. “Feet shoulder width apart.”

Louis shifts so his thighs separate a little. An urge hits him and he feels something warm dribble down his leg. No no no no no no.

“I--can’t, Harry, I can’t--”

Harry surges forward, cupping his jaw and Louis sighs and leans into it, crossing his legs tightly again.

“You can,” Harry tells him, pressing a kiss to Louis’ lips. He scratches gently over Louis’ belly, making him shiver, and slips his hand between Louis’ legs for a moment before pushing them apart.

Harry sits back down, tapping Louis chin so he looks up at him.

“You can do this, alright?” Harry says, even as Louis grunts and spurts in his pants.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Louis hisses, practically dancing on the spot. He feels another jet of urine soak into his pants, creating a damp patch. Tears form in his eyes, and he’s so fucking desperate he can’t stand it.

He barely registers it when Harry takes a picture, can only imagine what he looks like; lips bitten raw, hair mussed, tied up with a wet spot on the front of his jeans.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” Harry coos.  
“Are you ready to go to bed?”

Louis lets out a dry sob, collapsing into Harry’s arms and crossing his legs tightly, wriggling desperately.

“Alright,” Harry whispers, helping Louis upstairs, one arm wrapped around Louis’ waist and his other hand holding his leash.

When they get to their room, Louis is immediately on Harry, pressing his damp crotch to Harry’s thigh and rutting against him. Harry kisses him, and he moans.

Harry strips Louis’ shirt over his head, unbuttoning his jeans and putting them in the wash.

He turns back, finding Louis bent at the waist, clutching his dick through his wet briefs.

“Louis,”He murmurs, pulling at his waistband. Louis trembles. He drags Louis’ underwear down his gorgeous tan thighs, and slips them off his feet.

Louis holds his semi-hard cock, thumb pressed to his slit, by the time Harry has taken a warm and damp washcloth to Louis’ legs, cleaning off the dried urine. Louis groans as a thin stream of pee runs down his leg, and hangs his head, embarrassed.

“That’s okay, honey,” is all Harry says, catching the drips with his cloth. He slides another pair of briefs onto Louis, and pulls a soft sleep shirt over Louis’ head.

“Now, “ he says, setting his hands in Louis’ shoulders. “Do I have to tie you to the bed? Or can I trust you?”

Louis flushes deep. “I--”

“You want to be a good boy, don’t you you? My good boy?”

Louis keens. “Your good boy,” he repeats dumbly.

Harry kisses his nose. “That’s right. Now lay down, Lou.”

Louis lays down, and Harry removes the leash. He crawls into bed with Louis, shedding clothes on the way.

“Hey,” he says, running a hand through Louis’ hair.

“Hi,” Louis replies, trying to smile back but ends up biting his lip and squeezing his cock instead.

Harry sighs, and continues to caress the smaller man in front of him. “Fuck, Louis, you’re being so brave, and I’m so proud of you.”

Louis whines a bit at the praise. “I-- I have to piss, Haz. Really bad.”

“I know, darling. Hang on a bit longer for me, yeah?”

Louis breathes out heavy through his nose, wiggling a little when he leaks. “Y-yeah.”

Harry smile. “Do you know why we’re doing this?”

“Cause I’m a brat.”

Harry reacts as if stung, jolting.

“Louis--no! You’re not a brat, honey. You may have acted like one, today, but just because you can be a bit bad, it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. I know you didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry, baby. I thought you knew that.”

“Oh,” Louis sighs softly, thighs shifting restlessly against each other. He tries to cuddle closer to Harry while keeping his hands pressed in between his legs.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, but “id love you more if you let me go for a fucking wee.”

Harry laughs.

“Nah,” he tease, nosing at Louis’ jaw. “Now try to get some sleep, alright?”

“How can I sleep like this?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Harry says smugly. “Oh, and--” He flips around, over on his belly, and brushes his hand over Louis’ bladder.

“Ah!” Louis cries, curling in on himself in pain.”

“--and remember your manners, Lewis. I can always make you wait longer.” With that, he turns away, facing the window.

Louis just glares at Harry’s back.

~

It’s been ten minutes.

It’s been ten minutes, and Louis hasn’t slept a wink.

It’s been ten minutes, and Louis is _losing his mind._

He’s already leaked pretty heavily, through his underwear and onto his hands. A particularly strong urge sent a jet of piss spilling out of Louis’ hands and creating a damp spot on the bed. He fists the sheets tightly, taking a deep breath.

And Louis knows, he knows that he could just whisper the word “pineapple,” and it would all be over. He would get the sweet, sweet, relief of emptying his bladder, and Harry would probably just hold him close and let him piss where he was, on the bed.

But right now, this is just Louis’ decision. He could use his word. He doesn’t particularly want to.

And he can’t stop fucking _squirming_. He’s just laying here, clutching his cock and writhing like a goddamn worm.

He keeps dribbling, too, and eventually he tries the oldest trick in the book; getting himself hard.

Louis pulls his cock out and gives it a few tugs; it’s easier than he thought it would be, the way his full bladder presses on his prostate and the memory of the humiliation from earlier burning his cheeks.

He whines a bit, still stroking his cock. It actually is kind of helping, as does it feel nice, and he lets out a small moan.

“Naughty,” he hears Harry whisper from beside him, and he blushes, not knowing Harry was still awake. There’s no bite behind his words, though; and Louis feels confident enough to bury his face into Harry’s chest when he turns back around.

“My favorite naughty boy,” Harry says again, drawing him closer, and Louis drifts to sleep.

~

When Louis wakes up, he’s pissing.

He’d drifted away from Harry during the hour he’s slept, and was now lying on his tummy. In a small puddle of his own urine.

 _“Shit,”_ Louis says, realizing the gravity of his situation. He shoves his hands over his dick, which is still letting out violent, hot spurts of pee. Louis is so fucking desperate, he could cry.

So he does.

“Harry, Harry,” Louis cries, rolling out of bed and landing on the floor with a small thump. He crouches, cupping his bladder in one hand and squeezing his penis with the other. God. Louis can feel his pee dripping down his legs and onto the floor. “Harry, Harry, Harry.”

He can hear Harry shifting on the bed, murmuring sleepily. “Louis?”

Louis sobs, spurting.

And in an instant, Harry is out of bed and beside Louis.

Harry strokes Louis’ back. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Louis whimpers desperately, nodding. Warmth is collecting around his bum and soaking into the carpet.

“Can’t--can’t hold it, Harry!” He yelps, tears running down his face.

“Sssh,” Harry tells him. “Let’s at least try to get you to the bathroom, okay? Do you think you can do that for me?”

Jesus _fucking_ Christ.

Louis cries harder, but lets Harry pull him to his feet. He doubles over once vertical, holding his cock for dear life and swaying from side to side. Streams of piss are still coming out of him in big spurts, running down his legs.

He just-- just needs to release so badly and he can’t. Not yet.

He jiggles and bounces, feeling bursts of warmth come from between his legs.

Harry’s doing his best, helping Louis fucking waddle to the bathroom; but when he steps onto the cold tile and catches his own reflection in the mirror; completely wrecked, he just loses it.

Louis drops to the floor, holding his dick so tightly it hurts. His piss was still escaping in rivulets and making his thighs wet, sticking to the ground.

He knew he wasn’t going to make it to that bloody toilet, had been a lost cause. That thought makes him shriek and call Harry’s name, who immediately bounds over and pulls Louis into his lap so he’s straddling him.

Harry traces a thumb over Louis’ cheekbone, pulling Louis’ hands from his crotch at the same time. Louis jerks forward and moans, dribbling. Harry watches with careful eyes, then presses a kiss to Louis’ forehead and says, “Go.”

Louis lets out a squeak and promptly explodes. His pee comes out in long, hot, jets, soaking his underwear completely through and getting all over Harry’s legs. He keeps letting out little moans and groans of pleasure, rolling his hips at the relief. The urine just pours out of him, collecting in a huge puddle around them. Louis continues to whimper as streams grace his crotch and spill out onto the floor, and he bites the junction between Harry’s neck and shoulder. After what seems like forever, Louis’ stream dribbles to a stop. He lets out a big breath.

“Fuck,” he says, looking down at his soaking crotch. “I’m so fucking wet.”

Louis presses his hands to his face, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. He shudders a little.

Harry brings him closer, squeezing Louis around the waist. “I’m so proud of you, Louis. You did so good.”

Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck. Christ. They’re still sitting in his own puddle.

Harry strokes his hand over the small of Louis’ back. “Have you learned your lesson?”

Louis groans, rests his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Never have I been more confident about saying yes,” Louis informs him. “An’ I’m sorry. Was having a bad day. Didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Hmm, I know,” Harry says. “Just need a little break sometimes, don’t you, baby?”

Louis makes a small agreeing noise, trying to bury his face further into Harry’s chest. “Tired.”

“Okay, let’s clean you up a little first, though. You’re a bit wet.”

Louis squawks, smacking at Harry’s chest. “A bit?!” This was your idea, asshole!”

Harry just laughs.

The way he blows Louis in the shower later is worth it though.

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm going to hell)
> 
> constructive criticism, comments, and kudos are appreciated :')))
> 
> *hides behind a corner*


End file.
